Forces of Nature
by LollypopGuild
Summary: "100 feet below the surface of the ocean the very air you breathe becomes toxic. You become sick and confused, you can't tell up from down, and the lines between fantasy and reality become blurred..." A sunken Russian sub and an uninhabited island present the crew with a bigger mystery than they bargained for. Season 1. Canon universe (ish). BK/KH, hints of KH/OC, no ELF.
1. Chapter 1

**Re-post from my bibliography of 2007. Revised and updated for your pleasure. I own nothing but a vague sense of dejavu...**

* * *

 ** _Forces of Nature_**

* * *

 ** _Prologue_**

* * *

The woman gazed out to the cerulean ocean, alone on the sand. A bloom of salt crystals glistened on her skin of her arms; she was beginning to burn in the midday sun, but she didn't care.

 _How had everything gone so horribly wrong?_

The thought prickled in her mind like an unwelcome visitor, and she looked up to see what she thought was someone in a khaki uniform coming towards her along the beach.

He would never give up on her. Was it really him, or did she see only what she wanted to see?

She tried to call out to him but no sound was formed in her parched throat.

What if he passed by without seeing her? What if this awful place had reduced her to a wraith, never to be part of the human race again?

"Ben - " she rasped, but again, it was only audible in her head, "don't go - "

He was fading from view over the prow of the beach, so she scrambled and clawed her way up the dune and back into his line of sight, but the sand was her enemy and it gave way beneath her knees, her hands digging into powder too unstable to grab onto. She was sliding, sliding back down to the water's edge.

Her limbs were useless, her mind foggy. He would never know she was there.

 _Ben. Don't go._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

* * *

 _60 hours earlier_

* * *

Kristin hated department head meetings. Did the military have to discuss everything in such minute detail? Of course scientists had meetings too, but it involved a lot more independent thought and less of a hive mentality. Twiddling her thumbs, she waited for Nathan to get to her part of the day's agenda. Across the table from her was Hitchcock, clicking her pen at a furious rate. It was something Kristin had seen her do regularly, but today it had a particular intensity. Although Hitchcock did a good job of hiding it from the other officers, she could never hide her agitation from Kristin.

Krieg had already stirred about five sugars into his coffee and Kristin wondered if she would see him in the med bay later, probably in a hyperglycaemic coma.

She turned her attention back to Nathan.

"The Kasimira was lost without a trace in 1979," he said, "the last known communications with the USSR only placed it somewhere in the mid pacific. It's taken almost forty years, but thanks to Mr Ortiz we think we may have found it. Doctor..."

"Thank you Captain," Kristin used the remote to bring up an aerial view of a small circular island, "now, this is the latest satellite picture of our present location. Had it not been for the coral survey, we might never have found the Kasimira scuttled on the reef surrounding this atoll."

"Rumour has it, it was used for nuclear weapons testing programs," said Ford.

Hitchcock stopped clicking her pen long enough to lock eyes with Ford, "do we have any intel on those programs? You can't just detonate a nuclear bomb without some kind of record - "

"We, uh, don't have access to that material," said Ford, "the cold war saw to that."

"Anyone else uncomfortable with that?" Hitchcock looked around the table at her colleagues. If anyone had misgivings, they were reluctant to say so.

Nathan filled the silence that followed. "This case is of particular scientific interest to the UEO, not because of the value of the sub itself, but because of the circumstances surrounding its disappearance. Any information we can gather from the Kasimira will help us understand the nature of the electromagnetic blackout, why it's knocking out our telecommunications and why the coral has grown to such unprecedented proportions. Commander Hitchcock and Doctor Alex Ćaćić will dive to the wreck and try to recover whatever evidence has survived the tests of time. Commander, are you prepared to get under way?"

"I've already fully briefed Doctor Ćaćić."

"Excuse me," Krieg held up a hand, "but what about the radioactive fall-out?"

Kristin passed him a print out of her figures, "the radiation in the area is only slightly higher than background levels. However, the same cannot be said of the island. I'm afraid we have no figures on that and I wouldn't want anyone going up there to find out. The dive team have already been dosed with high levels of potassium iodide as a precautionary measure."

"Make no mistake," Ford straightened his paperwork, "this is a huge PR coup for the UEO. We're looking to improve relations with the FDR, otherwise I wouldn't want to spend a second longer in this forsaken place. We can't afford another debacle like Omoka Village. Be careful out there, people."

"If that's everything," said Nathan, "dismissed."

Everyone rose and went about their assignments, but Kristin noticed that Nathan stopped Ford as he left the table. "I'd like you three to stay behind for a few minutes." He indicated to Hitchcock and Krieg, who duly sat back down in their places.

Kristin shot Nathan a discrete look as she closed the hatch.

* * *

Once the others had left, Bridger pushed his fists into the conference table, "anyone shed any light on what happened at breakfast this morning?"

"Well, sir," Ford began, careful not to meet Hitchcock's gaze, "Lieutenant Krieg overheard one of the crewmen gossiping about Commander Hitchcock and myself... Regarding our friendship, and he thought it would be a good idea to give him a bawling out in front of a packed mess. Hazards of an integrated crew."

Bridger thought for a moment. "I'm at a loss of what to do about this situation. Mr Krieg, I don't believe your record will suffer any more minor conduct offences. In contrast, the Commander has an exemplary one. I have to admit that I had my reservations about you two working together. This boat's crew is made up of the most elite officers in their fields, it only stands to reason that some of them would have..." he struggled for the right terminology, "history. But I don't want to have to lose either of you. No doubt you will all agree that discipline is the number one priority. Do we have a discipline problem here?"

"Yes sir," Hitchcock gritted her teeth, "Lieutenant Krieg definitely does have a discipline problem."

"I'm not talking about him, Commander, I'm talking about you."

Hitchcock was clearly taken aback at this statement, "Captain, I - "

"You didn't intervene. Just like you didn't stop him exploiting his position when we were in the Tonga trench. In fact, you always get caught up in his little schemes sooner or later, and I can only guess what possessed you to let him bring Leslie Ferina on board. I'm presuming it was against what I hope was your better judgement."

Hitchcock opened her mouth to say something, but calling on that 'better judgement' quickly closed it before she could put her foot in it.

"I'm sorry, Commander, but you really should know better. Any more of these shenanigans and I'll have no choice but to take disciplinary action." Bridger hated to do it but he gambled on the fact that it would give Krieg an incentive to behave himself. He clearly still had deep feelings for his ex-wife, and if Bridger was to maintain control of the situation he would have to do some exploiting of his own.

* * *

She could really move when she was in a mood. Ben fell into step with her and started to explain. "Katie, I was only trying to stand up for you, you know I don't have a problem with - "

"Don't," she held up a flat palm dangerously close to his face, "talk to me unless it's in a professional capacity."

Ben sighed heavily as she stalked off down the corridor towards the sea-deck. It wasn't the first time he had received the silent treatment and it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

"The problem I have, Jonathan, is that Mr Krieg is starting to prove himself rather indispensable." Bridger pulled his chair back into the table and poured himself coffee.

"He's coming up for review soon," Ford gathered his things, "why don't we give him the benefit of the doubt in the meantime, give him a chance to redeem himself."

Ford was being uncharacteristically fair to Krieg. He was over compensating. Bridger wondered briefly if there was any truth to the rumours, but then he checked himself; Hitchcock, of all people, should know that in the military relationships with co-workers were career suicide. "You don't like Krieg."

"Am I that transparent? Captain, I can't let my feelings interfere with my job. I can't bounce someone off the ship simply because our personal styles clash."

"Do you think I was unfair to Hitchcock?" Bridger sipped his coffee. It was terrible.

"A little. This will bother her."

"If she's so conscientious, then why does her IQ go down by about a hundred points whenever Krieg is in the room?"

"I've been trying to figure that one out for years."

"This little soap opera has to end."

* * *

Lucas looked up from the handheld computer to find Hitchcock coming straight towards him. She was on the warpath; never a good sign. "Where's Ben?"

"How should I know?" she snapped, "I'm not his keeper." She softened when she saw Lucas' crestfallen expression. "Sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you. He's probably in his office, licking his wounds."

"Alrighty then," Lucas looked at her. Everyone was acting weird today, "uh, good luck with the salvo operation."

"You don't say good luck in the military Lucas, it's bad luck. You say 'good hunting'."

"Okay, good hunting." He turned to go but then did a double take. "Take what out on me?" Looking back, he saw she had already gone.

* * *

Lucas didn't knock. No-one ever knocked.

"You have to see this, I was going through this week's viral videos and this one's something _else_..."

The young man's youthful mirth had never annoyed Ben before, but for some reason it did now.

"You know what, Lucas, I'm not really in the mood for this right now. I have a huge workload to finish by the end of the month." He turned back to his paperwork.

Lucas just stared at him. "What did you do to upset her this time?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Come on, I'm your friend. You can talk to me, you're always there for me _."_

"That's because I've already been through every problem that could conceivably affect a teenager. I wouldn't expect you to grasp this one, it's a relationship thing."

"You mean about what happened this morning?"

Ben looked up from what he was doing. "Let's have a look at those videos, shall we. I could use a break."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Artificial light and the echo of conversations refracted off of the vaulted ceiling of the sea deck.

"Nervous?" Katie ran through their pre-dive buddy checks. She did everything by the book and then some, the result of having so many lives in her hands for so many years.

"Not about the mission," said Alex, "I've worked with radioactive sources all my career - "

"I understand you're quite accomplished in your field," she tugged at his BCD, "check."

"A fact that got me assigned to the seaQuest in the first place. No, uh, it's you making me nervous."

"I'm sorry?"

"I want you to know that I really admire what you do. I mean, you are probably the hardest working person on the boat. I've garnered a new respect for the military by watching you work."

She tried to ignore that, grasping his wrist in a business-like manner, "computer."

"Check," he said.

"O-ring."

He unscrewed one of the stages to his tanks and examined the washer. "Check."

"Regulator." She hated that word.

He checked. "Check."

"Three millimetres of oh-so flattering neoprene."

"I don't know about that, Commander; I've never seen a better dressed frog."

"First names are fine. You can call me Katie."

"Alex." He held out his hand to shake, as if it was the first time they had met.

"Anyway," she reached down to pull on a fin, "I'm not a maverick. I can't do this without a solid team of techs behind me. We don't often get the appreciation we deserve. We're asked to do the impossible on practically a daily basis but no-one notices unless something goes wrong."

"We're not all that dissimilar, you and I," Alex began to pull his own fins on, "the only difference is that I work with hypotheticals, and you work with harsh reality."

Katie's eyes settled on the tattoo of a girl's name on his upper arm. "Who's Gwen?"

"My ex-wife," he raised his eye brows, "you married?"

Katie coughed a little. "You obviously don't listen to the scuttlebutt around here."

"Should I?"

"Probably not," she smiled.

"Fancy going out for a drink next time we're in port? Not often I come across someone who isn't bored silly by my rambling on about the intricacies of nuclear reactors."

Katie licked her lips, making him wait. _Oh, what the hell,_ "sure."

They smiled at each other for the briefest of moments, before Alex seemed to remember why he was there. "We should get going, it's nearly eight o'clock."

"Oh eight hundred."

"Whatever," Alex positioned his mask.

They slipped into the pool.

* * *

"Open the sea doors, dive team compressed to outside equivalence and ready to depart," Tim spoke into his headset but was greeted only by static interference. "Great, don't tell me the blackout's started to affect the inside of the ship."

Miguel came over and helped him test all the frequencies they used for ship-wide communications. "I'm telling you, nothing's happened for at least two weeks. Nothing bad, anyway. Something's gotta go wrong with this mission..."

"Is this your stupid theory-of-probability-curse-theory-thing?"

"Law of Averages," Miguel corrected him, "out of a hundred missions, at least three have to get fubar."

"Sounds dangerously close to Krieg's scatter technique."

"That actually works, you know - "

"Um, not good," Tim pressed buttons, ignoring Miguel, _"_ very not good." He had no joy, so he called Phillips over from the engineering station.

"Have you tried switching it off and then on again?" No-one was amused. Phillips exhausted every avenue of investigation. "Better let the Captain know," he said.

Tim started to use the PA, but realised they would all have to switch to wired systems. "Damn, welcome to the dark-ages, everyone." It was going to be odd for the crew to have to do without the high technology they were used to. _Talk about fish out of water,_ he thought. "Captain, we're experiencing more technical difficulties. Recommend we get a work-group on this stat."

 _"I'll be up in just a moment, Lieutenant,"_ Bridger's voice floated back to him.

Phillips began wiring up the key stations on the bridge all the headsets.

Five minutes later and the Captain and Commander Ford were crowded around Tim's station with Doctor Westphalen and Doctor Levin, brainstorming an action plan.

"It's one of the classified weapons systems the scientists were developing." Westphalen couldn't disguise her distaste for the military. Tim had heard her lay into Bridger before, when she'd been rather vocal about the UEO taking attention away from their scientific mandate to pursue war errands, as she put it.

"There are several systems already in use across the military that can produce a similar effect," Phillips chipped in from across the bridge, "E-bombs, EMP pulses, but they're all one-shot techniques; this is like a sustained barrage."

"Maybe they came up with a way to cause deconstructive interference across a broad spectrum of electromagnetic frequencies," Levin volunteered, his brow furrowed.

"Either way, we'll know a helluva lot more when the salvage team return," said Ford, "then we can retreat to a safe distance to work this thing out. ETA on Commander Hitchcock, Mr O'Neill?"

"They had one hundred minutes on the clock. I'll put the count down on the main screen for you."

They were all grateful for a visual reminder to focus their efforts, it was difficult working with phenomena you couldn't see. Tim offered up a silent prayer for Hitchcock and Ćaćić.

* * *

At three-hundred and fifty feet long, the Kasimira was dwarfed by the seaQuest, yet she still had an imposing presence, looming up out of the depths. Once the pride of the Russian fleet, she was now a crippled wreck lying two thirds buried on the coral like a lethargic whale. The black hull was dappled with sunlight, filtered through more than seventy-five feet of equatorial waters. Down here, there was little differentiation between colours; red and green looked the same, and most of the detail was lost. There was little margin for error.

Katie shone her flash-light on the hull. She'd always believed that ships had a soul and that, once they were wrecked, they lived on in the hearts and minds of those who sailed in them. Unfortunately, no one aboard the Kasimira had survived to tell the tale.

She looked back at Alex, with the bulk of the equipment strapped to his backpack, the DVP pulling him along.

She waited for him, signing, _Okay?_ when he'd caught up.

 _Yes, I'm Okay,_ he signed back.

 _Up,_ she gestured.

They left the DVP on the sea bed and followed the curve of the conning tower up to the bridge. Of course, when the _Kasimira_ was built, a bridge was still called a bridge and the command centre was the conn. At least that's what they were in English, she had no idea what the Russians called them.

The _Kasimira_ was an Akula Class Attack submarine, pretty archaic by Katie's standards. Taking the hypersonic welding torch from Alex, she got to work on the hatch. It took longer than MIG welding, but they couldn't take any chances. Any gases would have become extremely volatile during the four decades they had been trapped inside.

Surprisingly little air escaped. The bubbles warped and drifted on their way to the surface, free after decades trapped below with the dead.

 _The dead._

She had already prepared Alex for what they might encounter. A boat that size would've had up to a hundred personnel, and as far as they knew they would all still be down there. It didn't worry Katie in the slightest, she had seen her fair share of death, but she hoped Alex would be able to focus on the task at hand.

 _Get in. Get the black box and the Captain's log. Check the weapons and the reactor. Take pictures of everything. Get out. Simple._

They began to descend the conning tower, switching up their flash-light beams as the visibility reduced.

 _Okay?_ Katie signed.

 _Still Okay,_ Alex replied, smiling under his regulator.

She cycled open the sea door at the bottom of the tower. Finally, they were inside. Crabs scuttled out of the way of the flash-light beams. The torpedo tubes were open. Someone had messed up pretty badly. What was it Doc always said? Made a 'Boo Boo'. She signed to Alex how to get to the reactor. _Left. Down one level. Look for hazard signs._ She hoped he had memorised the schematic half as well as she had. It was a pain in the ass not having radios, but signing was quicker than writing a note. He made his way aft, passing door after barnacle covered door, taking Geiger counter readings on the way.

Katie swam into the command centre. She quickly located the black box, otherwise known as the performance data recorder, or 'holy grail' of salvage operations. She unscrewed the communications console fascia and pulled out a briefcase sized box. Orange, of course, not black.

As she moved towards the Captain's quarters, immediately adjacent to the conn, she had an overwhelming sense of unease. She did a sweep of the room. Bodies. There were no bodies. There should at least be something. The crabs couldn't munch their way through an entire ship's compliment. But she couldn't waste time figuring it out right now.

The captains log was exactly where she thought it would be, still in pristine condition. She opened it. It was all in Cyrillic.

She checked the time on the dive computer. They had better bug out. But where was Alex? He knew the timescale they were working to. She would have to go find him, and this irked her somewhat.

The corridors were only a third of the size of seaQuest's and Katie's tanks bumped dangerously on the ceilings, however, she managed to navigate more easily once she had left the 'black' box and other equipment at the bottom of the conning tower.

 _Where the hell is he?_ She had been on enough technical dives to know the error margins were very small.

She rounded a corner and found herself staring into a bloated face, rotten and waterlogged, half the flesh hanging off and bared teeth grinning a savage snarl.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Katie blinked. In a heartbeat the lifeless face was replaced by something a little more human.

Alex.

His eyes were wild like a spooked horse and he was breathing way too fast. She checked his gauge. He was halfway through his second tank. They would have to share on the way back.

 _Okay? Right. Up._

They made their way back to open water, collecting the equipment and the salvaged materials together in a net bag.

When her pulse had returned to normal Katie turned to Alex to find him distracted. She signed to him to take off his mask and put on her secondary one, but he hesitated, rubbed his chest up and down with his closed fist. _Having trouble breathing._ Then he did something she had been dreading. He circled his ear with his finger.

 _Shit._ He was panicking. She'd barely had time to sign, _calm down,_ when he pushed off from the bottom and made for the surface.

Katie grabbed his ankle and tried to pull him back down, but he kicked against her, bashing her lip against her regulator. She tasted blood. His fin slipped through her gloved fingers, and she watched helplessly as he fully inflated his BCD and shot up.

She let him go. What else could she do? They drummed it into you; the only thing worse than an uncontrolled ascent was following someone else into an uncontrolled ascent.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She would have to surface. She couldn't leave him. She struggled with her emotions for a full thirty seconds before abandoning the equipment and beginning an agonisingly slow journey to the surface. According to the dive computer, she would have to stop every five meters and wait a few minutes. Each rest stop felt like an eternity. She forced herself not to run through the worst case scenarios.

After half an hour, her head emerged blinking into the strong sunlight. She looked around frantically for Alex. He could have drifted quite a long way by now. She ripped off her mask and kicked herself up in the water to get a better view of the seascape.

 _There!_

He was stunned and drifting. She swam over and grabbed him by his BCD, bringing him closer until they were chest to chest.

"I messed up," he said weakly.

"Don't worry about that now."

They had half a tank between them, which wasn't enough to get them both back to the seaQuest. She had made sure they had twice as much heliox as they needed but she hadn't counted on having to search for Alex, or his subsequent attack of narcosis.

Katie took off Alex's dive computer and buckled it around a weight from her own belt. She dropped it where she hoped the crew would find it.

"We'd better get to shore. Can you swim?" The island was only a couple of hundred yards away, but Katie quickly became pretty exhausted. Alex needed help and she had already used up all her glycogen reserves.

They dragged themselves out of the water and up to the low tide mark. The sudden change in buoyancy brought them both to their knees and they lay down amongst the shells and weed, breathing hard and shielding their eyes from the mid-morning sun.

 _Great,_ thought Katie _, this day gets better and better._

* * *

 _00:03_

 _00:02_

 _00:01_

The countdown on the main screen ticked over, watched by several anxious faces.

00:00

Bridger exhaled sharply. "Sound silent running," he ordered, "find them, Mr Ortiz."

"Silent running, all quiet," O'Neill shouted.

"Switching to passive sonar," said Ortiz. His hand went to his earpiece, straining to make out any noise.

Bridger he knew a good sensor operator could detect the tiniest movement by interpreting the acoustic sounds outside the boat. Sometimes a sharp pair of ears could do more good than all the technology in the world.

The whole crew came to a standstill. Ortiz closed his eyes and began to build up a mental picture, searching for the diver's exhaust bubbles. Seconds stretched into minutes. No-one on the bridge dared to even breathe. The silence was punctuated only by Ortiz's subtle changes in expression. Finally he said, "sorry, Captain. They are no longer in the water."

 _Or they are no longer with us._ Bridger wouldn't allow himself to entertain that thought. His first impulse was to continue with the mission, but he was experienced enough to follow his instincts. Something out of the ordinary was afoot. He needed counsel on this one.

"Conference, wardroom, now," he barked.

* * *

Ideas and concepts bounced around the room. _Maybe... Perhaps... Could...?_

Dr Westphalen charged through the door with Lucas in tow.

"Anything yet, Doctor?" Bridger looked up.

Lucas answered for her. "Only the answer to all your problems. In the last couple of hours I've been working with Levin on the possibility of a flux variance generation code - "

"English please, Hawking" said Krieg.

"We've come up with an algorithm which predicts the evolution of the electromagnetic blackout."

"Evolution?" said Bridger.

"The algorithm follows a similar pattern to the computer models we use to predict the behaviour of basic organic life forms."

"Like a virus?" said Krieg.

"Not quite," Lucas continued, "basically we think there is a source on the island which is generating a magnetic field which acts on all wave forms in its range. It's called destructive interference. Happens when two waves are progressively misaligned. The amplitudes cancel each other out."

"That happens all the time," O'Neill offered.

"By accident," Lucas turned to him, "but this has an intelligence to it. It's like an organism eating up all the electromagnetic radiation."

"Am I the only one who's getting a little spooked by this?" Asked Krieg.

"Risk assessment?" Bridger turned to the science contingent.

"Based on the information to hand," Kristin met his gaze, "the force, or whatever you want to call it, is working its way up the spectrum. It started with radio and microwaves, soon it will work its way into the visible range of light and eventually work on an atomic level. If we don't get out of here soon it will disable all the semiconductors in the vicinity."

"We'll have no electronics?" Ford looked at her. "You mentioned the visible range of the spectrum. What can we expect to happen?"

"Well it's only a guess," said Levin, "but when there's missing information in the human experience, the mind tends to fill in the gaps."

"You mean we'll start seeing things that aren't there?" Ford was clearly a little uncomfortable with the idea of his entire crew hallucinating.

"Exactly," said Levin.

"How long will this take?" Bridger asked.

"About twelve hours," said Lucas, "according to the algorithm."

"Thank you Lucas." Bridger turned to Krieg. "Logistics?"

"Finding them could take an hour or it could take days."

Bridger considered his words, wearily sucking in breath. "Mr Ford, set a course for just outside the reach of the electromagnetic field."

The crew made their way back to the bridge. All except for Krieg.

"Still here?"

"Permission to mount a search and rescue operation."

Bridger leaned on the table; this man was beginning to give him a headache.

"I'm not putting any more of my crew at risk from this... weapon. And that includes you."

"Policy dictates..."

"Don't lecture me about policy, Lieutenant. This wasn't an easy decision. We are operating well outside of protocol now. The game plan has changed, it started when they first developed the research program on the island, and if we're going to finish it, we need to work this out at a safe distance."

"I don't think the crew will work to capacity without Commander Hitchcock. If you want to solve this, then I would recommend getting her back on board as soon - "

"Is that your professional position, or your personal one?"

At least Krieg had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I take the welfare of this crew very seriously. I'm just trying to do my job."

"On the contrary, I believe you are letting your obsession interfere with your job."

The younger man clenched his jaw involuntarily. "I know how she thinks, sir. I can bring them back. No-one on board has as much experience with search and rescue as me."

Bridger considered the situation very carefully. He couldn't afford to make any more mistakes with this. Still, the man had a point, things would move faster with Hitchcock's abilities. He would have to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I need a damn good reason to let you go."

"If one of them is injured… Doctor Ćaćić is a civilian, sir, it's our mission to protect them."

Bridger had thought this was only about his relationship with Hitchcock. Krieg could be very persuasive, and the Captain was beginning to discover just how much. "OK, you can take one volunteer, but wait until morning."

"Thank-you, sir," Krieg's relief was visible, "is that morning local time, or morning ship time?"

"Don't push it."

Krieg bounded out of the room. Bridger hoped he would not regret letting him do this. He had often heard that divorce was like being bereaved; you could never get the other person back. Bridger knew how he would feel if it were his wife. If there was one thing he could do to bring her back he would do it. No matter what it cost him.

* * *

Ben tried to concentrate on the science team's payroll.

The cursor just blinked at him from an empty screen. Twelve agonising hours until they could get under way.

Then there was the small matter of his review. He always gave textbook perfect answers, but this time it would be different. He would write a brutally honest account of his own character, warts and all, and see what happened. That would really get on Ford's nerves. He smiled to himself and his eyes fix on an object on the table. Katie's MP3 player. She'd left it last night, when they were catching up over a cup of coffee. His heart clenched and something like hope left him.

He was startled by a soft _clunk, clunk_ and looked up to see Ford peering at him through the porthole in his hatch. He hurriedly wrapped up the MP3 in the headphone wires. "Enter."

"I need a word." Ford began, before he'd even stepped down into the room.

"How about 'renascent', it's word of the day."

"Not that kind of word." Ford was not amused. He looked around.

Ben's office was anarchic; he thrived on chaos, whereas Ford was a creature of order and Ben knew that just being in there made him feel uncomfortable. Ford rarely came in here unless he needed toothpaste, or something. "What can I do for you Commander?"

"Imagine we're friends for a moment," he said, adjusting his jumpsuit and sitting down at the table.

"By no stretch of the imagination will we ever be friends."

"It's about Katie." Ford folded his hands and pressed them to his mouth.

Ben had seen him do this many times before, when things were bound to get difficult. Man probably didn't even know he was doing it. "We were going to have this conversation sooner or later."

"Don't make this harder, Okay. Darwin brought back the equipment from the _Kasimira_ and one of their dive computers had been left behind."

"Which one?"

"Can't be sure."

"Well, check the serial numbers or something - "

Ford spoke over him, "it's no good, Ben. She didn't log the numbers. It shows one or both of them made a rapid ascent. Fifty feet in just a few seconds - "

"Then why is Bridger stalling? We should be out there now!"

"It's the Russians," Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't want you to do anything stupid. The UEO went behind their backs and they're considering any action on our part an act of war."

"I thought the Russian Federation had a good relationship with the UEO."

"On the surface, yes, but it's actually quite a fragile. The _Kasimira_ was disabled by a US developed weapon. It doesn't matter if it was forty years ago or last week, they want an excuse to flex their muscles."

"So we have to sit still in case we start a nuclear war," Ben's eyes shifted from Ford to the table. _That's what Bridger meant when he said we were operating well out of protocol..._

"That's the sum of it. Dre is assembling the joint chiefs as we speak. Thing is, you and I both know Katie is strong. She can survive anything."

"Not being decompressed from seventy-five feet." Ben's face was grim.

"I don't believe for a second she would do that. Way too pedantic."

"Tell me about it." Ben snorted.

There was an awkward silence.

"This isn't just about the _Kasimira_ ," Ford continued, "they're pushing me to take my own command."

"And this concerns me how?"

Ford leaned closer. "If I leave, Katie's gonna be the XO of this boat."

"Good for her." Krieg said slowly, "I don't have a problem with that."

"I don't like the idea of you distracting her. She has only one weakness. You're her Achilles' heel, and when you pull stunts like this morning... you just make her look stupid."

"I don't understand."

"Damn it, Ben," Ford tried not to raise his voice, "when you were assigned to this boat I made her decide whether to let you stay. I was pushing her to make executive decisions and it backfired on me. She vouched for you. The least you could do in return is behave yourself."

"I was just trying to do the right thing."

"She doesn't need you to stand up for her - "

Ben cut him off, "did it occur to you that I was trying to stand up for you, too? No, of course you didn't. Because I'm selfish. Because I only think about myself. Let me tell you something, while we're off the record. You don't know me at all and you don't know anything about my relationship with my wife. So stop judging me."

"She's not your wife."

"You've never been married," Ben rose and stalked around the table, "you don't know what it's like,"

Ford got up to leave, "next time you feel like giving the crew a dressing down, leave the disciplining to me."


End file.
